La Douleur Exquise
by scribbledletters
Summary: Meet Megurine Luka, the school's resident bitch that hates her life. Everything she does is always wrong in the eyes of her parents, and she's sick of it. God seems to hate her though, for everything just turns from bad to worse when she is engaged to the boyfriend of her favorite bullying target, the one and only Shion Kaito.


**Title: La Douleur Exquise**

**Pairing: Luka x Kaito**

**Rating: M**

**Warning(s): mentions of bullying and rude language. Sexual contents in later chapters**

**Disclaimer: LOLNO**

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Prologue - Daffodils

A lady does not like sweat pants more than dresses and heels. A lady does not like hurting herself and other people. A lady does not lose her composure. A lady does not cry.

_She tries to give everything she has. But even that is not good enough._

_**She **__will never be good enough._

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Luka found herself drowsing in her afternoon class with a book concerning the diversity of Orchidaceae perched languidly between her hands. She hummed absentmindedly, skimming pass the pages with the elegance that she never had a problem to exhibit. Apparently, no-one in the room seemed to realize, or mind, that vanillas and cattleyas didn't really have anything to do with their course of pre calculus. Everyone already knew that the bubble gum haired girl had already mastered what's written on the blackboard far before the teacher reviews it in class. It's just one of the common knowledge for the school's students that the heir of the prestigious Megurine family was almost perfect in every ways they can see. Sports, music, science, maths— she does it all. It was quite cringe inducing actually, for behind that flawless image, laid a woman was also famous for having an incredibly rotten personality. Unrivaled by even the most spoiled princess in the whole world.

_The tribe of Pogonieae has laciniate lip margin._

_Cypripedioideae has slipper-shapped pouches._

_There is no such thing as a black orchid._

_Orchids' blooms wilt easily after fertilization._

Luka snorted as she traced her fingers through the intricately sketched illustrations, marveling how smooth the old cartridge paper felt to her skin. The white and maroon Miltonias framing the edge of the page was drawn by an unknown German artist, and they looked so real that Luka almost caught herself trying to sniff them out. (And it's quite a pity, really, since Luka thought they would have smelled so nice if they were real.) Not all orchids had wonderful scents; they mostly have wonderful _looks _and_ shapes_. Miltonias, though, were different. And it was because of their warm and comforting scent did Luka start to appreciate the vast world of Anthophytes.

Luka slowly formed a fond smile as memories of the past rushed through her brain. She remembered the time when she didn't understand at all what was so great about flowers. She thought that they were too easy to crush and needed too much care. What was the use of their beauty when they all wilted in the end? Their fragile splendor made her want to tore their petals one by one; they only served to anger her even more. _It was too much hassle_, she remembered herself groaning to her flower arrangement teacher when her parents forced her to learn about it. The kind old woman just smiled though, the kind that crinkled the edge of her eyes— the kind of smile that people meant with their hearts.

The exact kind of smile that Luka never received from her parents.

Now that she thought about it, maybe that was the reason why her heart melted for the older woman. The patron was like the affection she longed from her parents, the love her heart yearned. Maybe it was because young Luka was too naïve, too desperate for attention. Or maybe she just got carried away by the sole moment of it all, But what Luka was sure of was that the old woman meant so much for her.

_"Do you know what this is..?" Luka squinted at the small delicate pale pink flower that was held between her teacher's index and middle finger before shaking her head. "This is called coriander, or sometimes called cilantro. The leaves are mostly used for cooking for it has a strong scent and taste, but that's not the reason why I brought this to you."_

_"Then why..?"_

_The old lady looked at her with such intensity that for a second, Luka felt a jolt in her nerves. "You asked me why flowers are loved." The old lady said, her grey eyes never left her own pale blue orbs. Her tone sounded so gentle though, and she smiles that knowing smile of hers that left Luka all warm and brimmed with care. "Coriander means hidden worth. And I'd like you to find that worth by your own heart."_

Something about that statement twang the strings of Luka's young heart. She started to pay attention more to the lesson and researched for flowers in her parent's big personal library. She started to ask various of questions about the meaning of flowers to her teacher, and she found herself quite surprised. It just amused her how sometimes the more beautiful flowers have dark meanings rather than the less pretty ones. You could never guess too much. Like how carnation meant _hate_ and marigold meant _grief _while cactus, despite its prickly exterior, meant _ardent love_.

She realized that flowers weren't just mean for their pretty petals and sweet smell. They were a language of their own, and Luka founds herself fascinated and drawn to them. They taught her to not judge people only from their exterior surfaces. That sometimes there was more than what met the eyes.

Luka sighed. She wished people could learn the same thing and stop judging _her_. (An accomplishment Luka deemed as impossible, because even her own conscience judged her from time to time.) She was also tired with her own bitchy image that she created for herself, but then found herself couldn't stop to the habit of demeaning herself. Dominating others felt good, and inflicting pain was a guilty pleasure for her. It was kind of scary actually, how psychotic all of these felt. Luka tried to convince herself that she was not a serial killer wannabe or a lunatic but sometimes it was hard to deceive herself. Her mind had grown numb to all of the lies she fed for herself.

The bell signaling the end of the class snapped her attention back to the now bustling hot classroom. The air-con seemed to do no good as the scorching summer sun blazed through the glass windows. Luka grumbled under her breath about why this school had to be so damned expensive when they couldn't even offer 2 air-cons in one big room. Someone needed to sue the principle soon. Or better yet, just demolish this stupid hell hole every students hated so much. It could definitely donate a huge contribution to world peace. Hha, she loved her sense of humor.

"Hey, Luka, whatcha doing dozing off like that! Let's go to that brand new karaoke place near my place now, there's this hot hunk who worked as a cashier there!" Her (some sort of) friend Gumi latched onto one of her arms. Luka closed her eyes in agony, wondering why she was always surrounded by brainless and noisy obnoxious girls. Oh wait, maybe because she was one as well. Meh, whatever.

"Not now Gumi, I'm totally not in the mood." She shrugged herself off from the clutches of green haired girl, who was now puffing her cheeks out. Luka thought that she looked like a guppy, what with her overall yellow attire that did not help much to appeal her image. But she knew she had to keep her opinion to herself. Aggravated Gumi was much more harder to handle than hyperactive Gumi. And Luka wouldn't like to break off any other girl's bone for the semester, no matter how tempting it was, thank you very much.

Gumi whined. "But Luuukaaa!" She kneeled face to face with the indifferent pinkette, chin propelled over her palms. "Lately you're always grumpy and literally an ass. You never even agreed to go with us anymore! What's wrong with you?" She nagged. Luka just rolled her eyes at the annoying gesture, putting all of her scattered stationery and books into her bag meticulously and then purposely slammed her palms on her desk as she rose up to leave the class, making the green haired girl jumped out in surprise. "Summer just makes my mood worse Gumi. Deal with it." She bit out as she waved her hand back, signaling that their conversation is over. Luka glanced around the room once again before her eyes caught a certain shade of blue that was borderline on being green. She felt her lips curving up into a knowing sinister smirk.

_No, don't. Stop._

_Just turn away and nothing bad will happen._

Before Luka knew it, her feet had already decided to move and stop near a certain twin tailed girl's seat. Feeling that there's someone in her vicinity, the teal haired adolescent glanced up, meeting the cold unreadable eyes of the resident princess and felt her stomach dropped down.

"Hi, Miku," Luka smiled sweetly, in which the said girl's complexion paled considerably before Luka decided to heat things up and sent Miku's things clattering on the floor as she swept her bag on the poor lad's desk. The fear stricken girl did not utter a single complaint. She just bit her bottom lip silently and then proceeded to get up from her sit and kneeled down to pick up her fallen possessions. When she reached to grasp her mechanical pen though, Luka proceeded to powerfully stomp on her hand, eliciting a sickening crack of the plastic material that made the cheerful ambience in the classroom suddenly chilled down, eyes looking at the familiar unpleasant scene they all disdained so much. The girl who was assaulted only stifled a choked sob, tears starting to build up on her beautiful big eyes. She wanted to scream at the burning sensation on her hand; she was sure that it was going to leave a sprain (she hoped that her fingers did not snap from the force, but it sure felt like it), but she held her tongue. Everything would only become worse if she let out any single hints of her discomfort, because it was exactly what the other party wanted, and that she had experienced this long enough to know the patterns they all held.

"Oops, didn't see your hands there Miku. You'll forgive me, right...?" Luka's smile seemed to brightened up a few notches now. The satisfaction rushing through her system like an addiction. When the girl didn't answer fast enough to her liking, Luka decided to twist her heels even harder, this time the delicious crack was definitely not from the already crushed pencil.

_So much for not breaking any bones this semester._

Miku's face was contorted so much from the pain that she was sure even a Gollum would have look better than her. The flare on her hand was escalating from bad to simply unbearable. It felt like someone just decided to skin her alive and purposely poured lemon juice all over it. Screw lemons, Miku was sure that what's hurting her now was worse than poured battery acid. The whimpers of agony couldn't simply be contained anymore, and the sick Pinkette that was still standing on the injured hand relished them like it was a prestigious orchestra playing Mozart or Schubert. Minutes that felt like hours passed by, and finally, the pressure on Miku's hand was lifted and the young mistress just dusted of her flawless leather shoes, as if Miku's hand was tainting her shoes rather than the other way around. She reached for her bag, rummaging it until she found her beloved purse, randomly grasped for a few notes and then threw it haplessly onto the still kneeling girl.

"Be grateful that I still pay for your hospital bill, bitch. I'm so generous that I even let you keep the change." Luka sniffed annoyedly, before promptly leaving the classroom; the loud slamming of the sliding doors rang dully on the silent room.

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_Proper ladies do not speak rude words. Proper ladies do not waste money. Proper ladies do not leave a bad impression._

_Megurine Luka could never be a proper lady though. So to hell with it all._

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**A/N: This is a late birthday present for my friend, miss-morningdew! I hope you'll enjoy this story dear! :D**

**P.S. : As this story will also revolve around the language of flowers, I have to say that they actually varies a lot, and I'm just using a version from one of my favorite novel, "The Language of Flowers" by Vanessa Diffenbaugh. Daffodil, the prologue's title, has the meaning new beginnings._  
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**Thanks for reading! And do drop a review if you can. :)  
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